


O, Father Of Mine

by thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Daddy Issues, Father Figures, M/M, Other, Sibling Bonding, Sibling Rivalry, The minyard's bio dad shows up and he's a p. good guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2020-11-10 17:29:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20855549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes/pseuds/thegirlwiththeprettybrowneyes
Summary: McPherson smiles weakly and ran his hand through his hair again. He sighs and looks up at them, determined. “I.. I also have… well…  I have reason to believe that I am your father,” And oh that makes sense. The strong hairline, the ears that stuck out, just a little bit, and those worried, worried lips that never stopped moving. They are on Aaron’s face, and, stiller on Andrew’s own, and now, on this man’s face.There is silence as the four men involved process the information.Andrew slams the door in his face.





	1. Chapter 1

Andrew is sitting with Neil on the couch, watching television, Aaron is in the good bean bag in front of them. Kevin is in his bed, sleeping off the hangover, and Nicky is in the kitchen, making breakfast. And Andrew and Neil are sitting on the couch. Their legs are tangled together and Neil is leaning his head on Andrew's shoulder, and he is slowly falling back asleep to the sound of Saturday morning cartoons and Nicky cooking breakfast in the kitchen. 

The sun is coming out outside. And it’s rising up and spreading warmth through the room and threatening to spill out of Andrew’s heart and light everything up with the golden glow of being relaxed and content and Andrew hates the thought as he thinks it, but he thinks that maybe this is what love feels like.

Then the door knocks and ruins the moment because the world doesn't like it when Andrew thinks he knows what love feels like. Aaron is half asleep in his chair. Andrew isn’t even sure he heard the doorbell, and Nicky is still in the kitchen making something that smells too delicious for Andrew to let him stop making it to answer the door, so Andrew gently nudges Neil over so he can get up to open it, being careful not to fully wake him. The man standing in front of Andrew’s door looks up, startled, as if it wasn’t him who had knocked on the door.

The man standing in front of Andrew’s door is five foot two and familiar. He is holding his phone up in the air like he was checking it for something before Andrew opened the door. He is wearing a tweed jacket with patches at the elbows, his shoes are untied and his dark hair floats, uncombed, around his head. He looks every bit like a scatterbrained professor from an eighties college movie. He quickly offers Andrew a sheepish smile and runs a hand through his graying dark hair, nervously. It sticks up where his hand disturbs it.

Andrew looks at him and says nothing. He doesn't know what this man is here to do. And he doesn't understand why the man feels so achingly familiar. The man bites his worried bottom lip and shoves his hand into his left pocket. He looks like he wants to say something, but doesn't. So they are at a standstill. Each waits for the other to say something, and neither does. The man keeps opening his mouth like he's about to speak, and then closing it. Andrew can see that he's struggling, but Andrew doesn't care.

The man is saved by Nicky, who eventually wanders to the door.

“Hi there!” Nicky says cheerily. “Sorry about my cousin here, he’s wonderful, but he’s not the most polite. How can we help you?”

The man looks at once both comforted and trapped. Andrew knows it as the look of someone who has reached the point of no return. The man asks “Is this the residence of Aaron and Andrew Minyard?” his voice is soft and gravelly. He speaks slowly and softly, a good voice for reading aloud.

“You’re Jonathan McPherson,” Aaron said, coming up behind Andrew. Andrew was surprised to find that he recognized the name.

Jonathan McPherson was the author of a series of children’s books that Andrew had read in one foster home or another. It had starred a heart surgeon that had accidentally gotten mixed up with a mysterious organization that was plotting to use dark magical forces to murder high-standing officials in order to influence change. It was darker than the Nancy Drew or Magic Tree House books that the other kids liked to read, but they had been some of Andrew’s favorites. The foster homes never had the complete collection though, so he had never read the ending.

“That I am,” McPherson smiles weakly and ran his hand through his hair again. He sighs and looks up at them, determined. “I.. I also have… well… I have reason to believe that I am your father,” And  _ oh _ that makes sense. The strong hairline, the ears that stuck out, just a little bit, and those worried, worried lips that never stopped moving. They are on Aaron’s face, and, stiller on Andrew’s own, and now, on this man’s face

There is silence as the four men involved process the information.

Andrew slams the door in his face. 

“Andrew!” Nicky chides

“I have nothing to say to that man,” 

Aaron says nothing, he braces himself against the wall, breathing heavily. His knees buckle and he slides down silently.

“He’s family! At least listen to what he has to say,” Nicky pleads.

“You don't know that he's our father, you heard him, he doesn’t even know that. And even if he is, I have not met him before today. That man is not my family.” Andrew says. “Do what you want, don't come to me when you end up hurt,” Andrew goes to the living room, where Neil is waiting. The nosy bastard heard everything. He looks up at Andrew, and Andrew already knows what he's going to say.

“No, not this time,” Andrew plunks himself on the couch and buries his hands in his hair.

In his periphery, Andrew sees Neil look at the door, and furrow his eyebrows, and then he looks back at Andrew, shrugs, and says “Okay,” He stops for a few moments then asks “can I lean on you? Yes or no?” Andrew nods and makes room for Neil. 

Nicky has gone outside to talk to McPherson. How must he have felt, seeing his worried lips on Andrew’s face. Strange, certainly, proud? No. Not a successful man like that. Not after Andrew had looked at him with blank eyes and shut him out.

He hears Nicky ask how long McPherson is going to be in town. Andrew tunes out the answer.

Nicky enters the room and sits down at the dining table. He puts his head in his hands. Aaron enters and sits in the same fashion.

“He's coming to the next practice, the home game, and then here for dinner the next day.” Nicky says, matter-of-factly.

Andrew says nothing.

“Please at least try to be nice to him?” Nicky asks.

“You're going to burn the potatoes,” Andrew reminds him.

Kevin chooses this moment to stumble out of the hallway that led to the bedroom. He takes in Nicky, stumbling to the kitchen, Aaron, clutching his head at the dining table, and Andrew and Neil, stoically leaning on each other on the couch.

“What did I miss?” he asks.

_ Everything _ . Andrew wants to say.  _ You missed everything _ .

The sun has finished rising by now. The light streaming through the windows isn't golden anymore. It's for the best, Andrew thinks, gold doesn't last long in places like this anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

Aaron joins Andrew on the roof that night. Andrew is halfway through a cigarette.

“Those things will kill you,” Aaron says. “Could I have one?”

Andrew puts his almost-full pack of cigarettes in his pocket. “Sorry. I'm fresh out.”

Aaron sighs and leans against the railing of the roof. He's trying to think of something to talk about that isn't the thing he came to the roof to talk about it. 

“If you're going to talk about the author, do it now before I lose patience.”

Aaron sighs. “Do you really think he's our father?”

Andrew blows out a puff of smoke. “It doesn't matter. Where was he when we were born? When I went to juvie? When Tilda was beating the shit out of you? It doesn't matter if he's our father. He's not our  _ dad _ .”

Aaron tenses up at the mention of Tilda and crosses his arms. “Fuck you. You're a sociopath

“I'm right.” Andrew says, but doesn't correct Aaron.

“You've never once wanted a father figure?” Aaron asks.

Andrew furrows his brow. “You have father figures. Or did you forget when Nicky taught you to shave? And drive? Or when Wymack basically guaranteed you a future?”

Aaron says “It's not-” and Andrew wonders what he's going to say.  _ It's not the same? It's not enough? _ “It's not just me, they're yours too.”

Andrew almost laughs. “I haven't had the best track record with  _ father figures _ , Aaron. I'd rather not classify Nicky and Wymack with the likes of them.”

Aaron starts. “Is that what this is about? You think he'll be like them?”

“I don't think he'll be like anything” Andrew says. “I'm skipping practice.”

“Hmm” Aaron fixed his gaze on some drunk boy stumbling into the dorm, loudly singing something lilting and lovely that sounded a little bit like  _ I Want It That Way _ . Except now it was slurred and echoing and slightly haunting and not  _ I Want It That Way _ . The guy had a nice voice. “You think if I spit from here, it would land in his face?”

Andrew shrugged and gestured for Aaron to try. Aaron didn't, and it was just as well. Andrew liked this eerie version of the song.

“Did you ever read any of his books?” Andrew asks. Aaron was the first to recognize him that morning, Andrew remembers. 

“Who- oh. Yeah, yeah I did. Didn't every kid with a fucked up life? I used to run away to the library to read them. They're the reason I wanted to be a doctor.”

Andrew scoffs. “Well. No wonder you want him around.”

“Come on Andrew, you had to have at least read one. I bet you fucking loved them.”

Andrew blows out a thin stream of smoke. “I read a few. They were all right.”

“I always thought that the ending was strange.” Aaron says, and for once, Andrew wishes he knew what the ending was. “Don’t skip dinner. Show up. If you don’t like it you can leave.”

And Andrew appreciates the sentiment, but it doesn’t work like that. “What will you give me if I do?”

Aaron groans and shrugs. “We can figure something out after. Just come?”

Andrew sighs. “I’ll be there. Now go away before I push you off the roof.”

Aaron is gone before long.

Andrew wonders about fathers for a while. He wonders about surgeons. He wonders about books and their authors. So many men with so many responsibilities. Andrew wonders how this man found out that he was related to a disappointment. He wonders how long it will take to send this man running.

Neil comes out onto the roof then. And angel come to pluck Andrew from his dark thoughts.

“I just ran into Aaron,” Neil says. “He was in a good mood,”

Andrew starnes down into the parking lot “What makes you think that.”

“He told me to fuck off. He's usually much more vitriolic.” Neil takes a comforting place near Andrew. “How are you holding up?”

“Good balance.”

“I'm serious.”

Andrew tapped the ashes off of his cigarette. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting me to feel, but trust that I’m not feeling it,”

Neil huffs out a breath. Not quite exasperated, not quite fond, but approaching both. “Have any more of those?” Neil indicates the red cherry of the cigarette hanging from Andrew’s mouth.

Andrew hands him a cigarette. Neil fumbles around his pockets for lighter and sighs when he doesn’t find one. Andrew pulls Neil’s lighter out of his pocket and Neil looks at him in quiet amusement. "I'm considering going to dinner." Andrew says. "Do you think I should?" He hopes Neil will try to talk him out of it.

Neil smiles. "You already know what you're going to do."

Andrew sighs. "Come here. Yes or no?"

Neil's answer, as always, is a simple "Yes."

Andrew hates how much loves the immediate answer. Has he really grown so complacent? A few months ago, he would have objected to being loved so completely. Now though, he just jerks his neck to the side, and invitation.

Neil tosses his still-burning cigarette to the side, a waste that Andrew doesn't care enough to mention. Neil steps behind him and wraps his arms around Andrew's stomach, rests his head on Andrew's right shoulder. Andrew's free hand moves to Neil's cheek. He traces the raised skin with his fingers.

Andrew doesn't pay attention to how long they stay like that, just the feeling of fullness in his heart, the quiet night air, the moon, the feeling of Neil holding him together and not expecting anything in return. Love.

"Andrew." Nicky's voice says behind them and ruins the moment because the world doesn't like it when Andrew thinks he knows what love feels like.

Andrew, out of high-school reflex, hides his cigarette.

Neil springs back, not because he wants to, but because he thinks Andrew wants him to. Andrew feels the cold air hit his back. "I'll see you later, Andrew."

Andrew nods and does not watch him go, Nicky walks up to the place beside Andrew. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You know, I do come up here to be alone." Andrew says, looking at Nicky. He blows out a breath, despite not having any smoke in his lungs, and says it again. "Alone."

Nicky pays him no mind and moves to stand beside him. "Snuggling your boyfriend is not being alone." Nicky has grown less afraid of him, and Andrew doesn't know how to feel about it. 

On the one hand, now he has to talk to Nicky to get him to do what he wants his cousin to do. 

On the other hand, two weeks ago, when Aaron had stayed over at Katelyn's and Kevin had stayed at Wymack's and Neil and Matt had gone off to be idiots together (Andrew would have minded but it was Matt's last year here, and he made Neil happy. Besides Matt was too ridiculous to make Andrew properly jealous anyway), Nicky had woken him up with pancakes. 

There was a stack of them on a plate and Nicky was singing along to the music blaring from his phone speaker, and Nicky had laughed at his bedhead. The kind of loving, unafraid, big-brother kind of laugh that Andrew hadn’t heard directed at him since high school. Andrew remembers thinking that he wished he hadn’t started threatening him with knives.

Andrew settles on a middle ground of being lightly annoyed at Nicky.

Andrew sniffs. “Just say your piece and be done with it Nicky. Convince me to go to the dinner, or whatever, I know you want to,”

“Actually, I was going to apologize.” Nicky said. “I’m not going to force you to go, Andrew, I’m sorry that I put that on you. You don’t have to.”

Andrew shrugged. “Great, thanks for your permission.”

“Fuck off, Andrew, you know what I mean.” Nicky laughs, humorless. Andrew, out of sick impulse, liked him better this way, when he was mean. “Are you smoking?”

“No.” Andrew blurts quickly.

Nicky sighs and shakes his head. “I can smell it on you, dumbass. Can I have one?”

“No.” Andrew says.

Nicky nods. “Probably for the best anyway. I haven’t tried, but I think I have the potential to be a very good addict.”

Andrew tosses his own cigarette to join Neil’s on the ground. The drunk student was nowhere to be heard. “It’s not that fun.”

“I’m serious though, you don’t have to go. You and I could like, go see a movie or something."

Andrew snorts "You cant skip out on dinner, it was your idea."

"We both know my ideas have been… less than good."

Andrew looks away. "Aaron is going."

"Aaron's been looking for a father all his life, it's why he let me take you in, it's why he agreed to join the foxes, of course he's going." 

"What, and you haven't?" Andrew spits, too angry to pretend he isn't. Nicky's daddy issues have gotten him into more trouble that he cares to mention.

"No." Nicky said "I have. Can't you see, Andrew? I know because I'm just like him. I'm just like him and I'm never going to stop wishing I could make that up to you."

"You can't." Andrew says, because he knows it will hurt, wants it to hurt.

Instead of recoiling when Andrew strikes, Nicky takes the blow with open arms. "I know." Nicky blows out a heavy breath, despite his lack of cigarette, and his lips press against each other like he's trying not to cry. "I know, and I'm sorry,"

Andrew feels the fight leave him and he wants to collapse, but he stays standing and shakes his head. "Don't be."

Nicky looks away and Andrew knows he hasn't said enough, but he can't bring himself to say more.

Andrew gives in to his weakening legs and sits down. Nick turns to leave but Andrew almost unconsciously grabs his arm and gestures for him to sit. Nicky does. "You're my family, you know that?"

Andrew is too tired to hide his surprise.

"Don't look so surprised, Andrew, jesus." Nicky shakes his head. "You don't have to go." He says again.

"I already promised Aaron I would."

Nicky looks over, frowning. "Well. I guess that settles it then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I present: asking for cigarettes as a metaphor for relationships!   
:D


	3. Chapter 3

Andrew doesn't know why he breaks into Wymacks apartment, but he's not disappointed to find a bottle of cheap whiskey and pour himself a glass. 

When Wymack comes home, he's not surprised to find Andrew there. They stare blankly at each other, wary. Wymack is stiff and steady and Andrew? Andrew is raring for a fight. He's been raring for a fight for two days and everything comes to a head tomorrow and sooner or later he's going to snap. He thinks he came to Wymack's because it would be a safe place to snap. His fists clench and unclench restlessly. He resists the urge to sit on his hands, just to still them.

Wymack sits on the opposite side of the table and waits.

Andrew rolls his neck, feeling the bones crack, and lays a hand on the table next to the glass of whiskey. "What do you know?"

"Nothing"

Andrew scoffs.

Wymack frowns. Something on his face tells Andrew that he's putting the pieces together. "I'm serious. Kevin's been strangely tight-lipped on the matter." And  _ Oh _ wasn't that sweet. Andrew can't meet Wymacks eye, he looks awkwardly at the corner of a rug on the floor.

"My- our-..." Andrew takes a second to collect himself and his leg starts bouncing uncontrollably.

"You don't have to tell me." Wymack says. 

But Andrew can't not tell him. The words are spilling out of him. He needs to say it out loud or he'll burst. He needs to say the words. He needs to. "My dad is here. Our dad. Me and Aaron's… father. Is here. In Palmetto." The words come out jumbled and nervous and Andrew can't find another way to say them. 

Wymack frowns. "Oh."

That was it. "I know. It's above your paygrade."

"Kid, fuck my paygrade, are you alright?"

Andrew shrugs. "Doesn't matter."

"It does."

Andrew's head snaps up. "It. Doesn't. Matter." 

The foxes like to bet, and so Andrew learned early on that when it comes to a gamble, never to bet anything that he couldn't afford to lose. Loving Neil isn't a gamble. Loving Aaron, Nicky, even Kevin, that isn't a gamble. Loving a man that he does not know is a gamble, and Andrew does not have any love that he could afford to lose.

Wymack bites his lip, and even this is a surety, even Wymack's consternation is something Andrew can count on. It occurs to Andrew, very slowly, that if in some bizarre turn of events, Wymack turned out to be his father, it would be an easy thing to love him.  _ They're yours too _ . Aaron had said. 

_ I haven't had the best track record with father figures _ . Andrew had replied. He hadn't had a good track record with brothers either. 

And yet.

"It doesn't matter." Andrew repeats, and he feels something strange in his throat rising and tries to ignore it.

Wymack shakes his head, but doesn't say anything. Andrew tries to figure out what's happening with his throat. He picks up his glass and sips at his whiskey but it does nothing. He opens his mouth to ask for a glass of water and the sound that comes out of his mouth instead is a choked sob. A tear rolls down his cheek Andrew catches it in his hand and looks at it in wonderment. "What the  _ fuck _ ?" His voice shakes and Andrew collapses into himself, crying.

Why was he crying? He hadn't cried in years. Thanksgiving hadn't made him cry, almost losing Neil hadn't made him cry, finding Aaron hadn't made him cry, killing Tilda hadn't made him cry. Andrew tried to remember the last time he had cried and he wasn't shocked to find that it was when he was eight years old. And yet, some bastard shows up and claims to be his father and suddenly Andrew is bawling his eyes out like a child. Pitiful.

He knew that he would snap, that's why he came to Wymack's apartment. He didn't think that snapping would take the form of being a sniveling dickhead. The tears are coming, larger and faster from his eyes. Andrew thinks they're making up for lost time.

Wymack walks in the general direction of the kitchen and comes back with two glasses of water. Andrew downs one gratefully. Then the other. If Wymack is annoyed, he doesn't show it. 

"Neil is coming to get you, I texted him in the kitchen. Did he know you were here?"

Andrew shakes his head. Everyone was giving him a wide berth, letting him roam around until he died, like a wounded animal.

That isn't fair. Andrew corrects himself. Bee would be very proud. They're giving him space.

Andrew looks up at Wymack, who is studying him like he's looking for cracks. The tears have stopped. Andrew has run dry. "I'm sorry."

Wymack shakes his head. "Don't be. That's stupid."

"You're supposed to be nurturing." Andrew deadpans. "You're causing damage to my young, impressionable mind."

"I don't have to be nurturing when you're being stupid." Wymack shrugs "Are you going to be okay."

Andrew sighs. He doesn't feel the rising tension in his chest anymore. He must have cried it out. And Neil is coming. "Yeah, I'll be good, coach."

"Kid… I-" Wymack's face says everything that his mouth can't. Andrew takes in a sharp breath and understands. 

Andrew nods. "Yeah."

There's a knock on the door and it's Neil, panting like he ran here.

"Jesus kid, how fast did you drive?" Wymack says, voice once again gruff. Neil doesn't answer. He pushes right past to where Andrew is sitting and looks at Andrew. His hands hover by the sides of Andrew's face in a silent question. Andrew nods and Neil holds his face and inspects it. Andrew knows that Neil can see that he's been crying. 

Neil's thumb runs along the skin under Andrew's eye, where the scars are on his own face. Andrew wonders if Neil knows he's doing it. His face feels cool where Neil touches it.

Wymack clears his throat and Andrew stands to walk out. "Thanks coach."

Wymack shakes his head. "You've got nothing to thank me for."

* * *

The car ride home is loud, but that's only because Andrew cranks up the music as loud as it can go. Neil is worried. Andrew can see it on his face. He puts his hand on Neil's thigh and squeezes slightly before letting go. Neil's face relaxes slightly.

When Neil parks and turns off the Maserati, the sudden silence rings in Andrew's ears. Neil looks over, worried. Andrew gestures for Neil to just say it. Neil says "I was worried." Andrew looks over at him. He sees in the overhead mirror that his eyes are puffy and red rimmed.

"I was too."

Neil continues, looking away. "I didn't know where you were."

Andrew nods. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Did you find what you were looking for at Wymack's?"

Andrew nods. Neil does not look reassured. "Hey, look at me. Yes or no?"

Neil looks at him and nods.

Andrew kisses him gently. He's always been better at that than words. Neil melts into the touch. 

Andrew has had to grab everything good in his life and hold it close until the world stopped trying to take it. Andrew thinks that maybe the one good thing the world had freely given him is Neil. If Neil is the world's one gift to him, then Andrew is alright with that. Neil is enough.

All Andrew has to do now is kiss and be kissed by Neil. 

The rest can wait.


	4. Chapter 4

The game passes by in a blur. No matter what Kevin says, Andrew doesnt think there is any skill in playing Exy as a goalie.

See ball, catch ball. That was it.

Somewhere in the audience, his father is there, watching him. Andrew hasn't seen him, but he can see from Nicky and Aaron constantly looking upward into the crowd what general direction he's in. But Andrew isn't looking. If he doesn't look, then he can pretend McPherson is stuck in traffic, or that he got bored and left.

Exy is quick, exy is easy, exy is easy aggression and the kind of two-steps-ahead thinking that won't let anyone focus on anything else. Andrew usually hates that exy doesn't let his mind wander, but tonight, at least, he's grateful. Andrew has never loved exy, but he understands it, and for now that's enough. It's easy to become a machine for a few hours, especially considering the alternative.

He does his job and the foxes win, seven to none.

In the locker room, the upperclassmen shout various congratulations and Andrew tips his helmet off and collapses onto a bench. He's grown used to showing this kind of tired, physical weakness in front of the team. They'll never be his friends, but Andrew is comfortable enough around them. If anything, it gets Wilds to share an ice pack with him every now and then. 

Kevin excuses him from the customary critique, his own way of giving Andrew a break.

He waits until everyone's done showering to hop in, as usual. The cool water is a relief to his aching muscles. He's packed himself a change of clothes. They're leaving immediately.

When he walks out, Neil is waiting for him, looking nervous and very well-dressed.

"Who picked out your outfit?" Andrew asks playfully, his hand reaches up to grab the neck of Neil's green shirt.

Neil scoffs, mock offended. "Maybe I picked it out myself."

"Did you?"

Neil pouts "No."

Andrew snorts. "Yes or no?"

Neil's mood improves significantly. "Yes." He let's Andrew pull him into a kiss, brief and perfect like most things with Neil are. Andrew pulls away and is so, so, so in love.

Kevin walks in and ruins the moment because the world doesn't like it when Andrew thinks he knows what love feels like. Still, his hand hasn't moved from Neil's shirt, and he isn't letting it go. "Um… sorry. Andrew. Nicky sent me." Kevin walks out as quickly as he came in.

Neil holds Andrew's arm and gently presses a kiss to the inside of his wrist. "You don't have to go."

Andrew sighs and takes Neil’s face in his hands, finds a last bit of strength in his eyes. "I know. Let's go."

For the second time in his life, Andrew sees his father. McPherson is holding a slightly disheveled bouquet of flowers and looking sheepish.

"I figured, you bring flowers when you know someone in a play." He explains nervously. "This wasn't a play, but, er… I brought flowers… anyway…" 

Andrew knows he ought to interrupt the man, put him out of his misery, but he just waits for the sentence to flounder out on it's own. Nicky and Aaron are also stoic. Andrew looks at Nicky and that sends him into action. He takes the flowers.“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

McPherson seems glad for the kindness. He looks at Aaron “You really were very good out there.”

“Uh. Thanks. Thank you.” Aaron says, and shifts out from behind Nicky. “You like Exy?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about it.” McPherson gives an embarrassed smile. Aaron’s eyebrows twitch, like they don’t know whether to go up or down. “But I suppose now I shall have to learn to.” McPherson continues. And just like that, he has Aaron. Andrew is not as easily charmed when McPherson turns to him with an emphatic "you really were  _ very  _ good."

Andrew nods. And that is all McPherson will get.

Katelyn chooses that moment to enter the room. She gives Andrew a cold nod and Andrew returns the favor. He doesn’t like her, but he's learned enough about her to not say he’ll never like her. In any case, Andrew had begrudgingly grown to respect Katelyn. Anyone who could outlast him deserved at least that much. Aaron softens as soon as Katelyn reaches his side. McPherson holds his hand out and gives Katelyn a warm handshake. “Hello there! And who might you be?”

“This is Katelyn, my girlfriend.” Aaron says, without one trace of fear. McPherson beams. Andrew feels a needle of jealousy poking into his stomach.

Andrew looks at McPherson and wonders if he can tell them apart. I mean, all he's had is two minutes of interaction and an hour and a half of watching them on the court, he hasn't said either of their names yet.

As if he heard Andrew's thoughts, McPherson turned to him "And you, Andrew, will anyone be joining us on your end?"

Andrew hides his impressedness remarkably well, he thinks. Neil is exactly where Andrew needs him. Andrew stares up at McPherson, a challenge in his eyes, and grabs Neil's hand. "This is Neil. My boyfriend."

There is a visible ripple in the group. Neil gives Andrew's hand a surprised squeeze, Aaron's head snaps to look at them, glee and fear fight for dominance on Nicky's face. The only person wholly unaffected by this is McPherson, who only smiles, same as he did with Aaron, maybe even moreso, and again offers a handshake. "Lovely to meet you."

Neil, with terrible form, accepts. If Neil's weak handshake bothers McPherson at all, Andrew doesn't notice, or care. He does notice that McPherson has offered his left hand, so that Neil could keep holding hands with Andrew. 

Andrew makes eye contact with Nicky, expecting to find jealousy, but seeing only pride. Wymack is there, in the corner, watching this take place. Andrew subtly tilts his head.  _ What's your read on this guy _ ?

Wymack frowns and tilts his head in a way that says  _ give him a chance, but be careful _ .

The beginning of dinner goes well, but it's still mostly pleasantries. No one wants to talk about the elephant in the room. It's, by most standards, a very nice dinner. But Andrew finds its impossible to have a nice dinner when everyone at the table is waiting for a bomb to go off. Andrew refuses to be the one to make this dinner go south. He's done being the dramatic one in the family.

It's not until the end of dinner, and everyone is scrambling to pick up the check, but Johnathan insists.

"You're all college students, let me pay," he smiles 

"Wow, no wonder mom liked you." Aaron says.

Everyone freezes. Aaron looks surprised, like the words had just slipped out. Andrew feels a knot forming in his stomach.

Aaron tries to backpedal. Nicky gives an awkward laugh and for a second it seems like they're going to push past this, but then someone asks "are you alright?" and puts their hand on Andrew's shoulder and ice runs through his veins.

He expects something dramatic to happen, maybe someone will drop a plate or knock over a wineglass. It seems impossible that nothing is smashing on the ground right now. But all that happens is Andrew whips his head around in the direction of the arm and says " _ Don't touch me _ ."

McPherson draws his hand back like he's been burned. And that does it. Andrew has been stretched far too thin in the past two minutes to handle this situation with any grace.

He feels himself standing and walking out. He doesn't even glance at Neil before he goes. 

Andrew lights a cigarette in the alley by the restaurant and tries to figure out whether or not his hands are shaking.

Someone walks out. Andrew is expecting Neil. Instead, it's McPherson.

"What do you want?" Andrew says. Less asking than ordering.

McPherson wisely keeps his distance. "To apologize. I shouldn't have touched you without your permission. I swear I just wanted to make sure you were alright."

Andrew almost grits out an  _ I'm fine _ , but even he hasn't stooped that low yet. Instead, he stares blankly, waiting for McPherson to leave. "Okay. You've apologized." McPherson waits too though, annoyingly patient. Andrew is caught between the desire to be alone and curiosity. The longer they waited, the more curiosity won out. "Aren't you going to go inside now?"

McPherson shrugs "Do you want me to?"

Andrew says nothing. Curiosity growing. McPherson has read him like an open book. "I googled you."

McPherson shrugs. "As is your right."

Andrew skirts around the truth. "You don't seem like a terrible person."

"Thank you." This is, in a way, something that Wymack would do. McPherson won't answer any questions until Andrew actually asks them.

"I want to know if you're worth letting into my life. Into Aaron's life. We've been in some bad situations."

McPherson raises an eyebrow. "You're not the only person capable of doing a Google search."

A shock ripples through Andrew. "You know? About me? ...About Aaron?"

McPherson nods. His hands slide into his pockets and he seems remarkably unfazed by the fact that his son killed a man. Andrew wonders, with morbid fascination, whether or not there's something he can say to scare this man off.

"You know that I went to juvie."

"Yes."

"You know that I almost beat four men to death, and then ended up drugged out of my mind for the better part of two years because of it. And you know why I got taken off them."

"Yes." McPherson is frowning, but with determination, not disapproval.

Andrew gets braver. "I killed my mother. And I've got a knife on me right now."

That shocks him. But only for a moment."Well. Alright then." McPherson says, processing, then he looks up at Andrew, ready for the next bit of news Andrew stares back at him, the truth of him laid bare. 

"You're taking all of this remarkably well." 

McPherson shrugs. “People make mistakes.”

Andrew raised an eyebrow “That’s an awfully cavalier way to put things.”

“It’s the truth.” McPerson says. And this too reminds him of Wymack. 

"Why did you come to South Carolina?" Andrew asks, tired and confused.

This is the thing that evokes the largest reaction. Embarrassment lingers on his face. "I'm afraid you'll think me selfish, or foolish."

"Well you've got to be stupid if you came here after knowing all that."

McPherson runs a hand through his hair and Andrew sees the resemblance and takes a drag of his cigarette. "Here's something you won't find out about me on the internet." He sighs "I'm an extremely lonely man. I've never been in love, I have no family, my only friend is my editor, and even that's not a certainty. I have… well. I have no one. And I was moping around in my big empty house, pathetically contemplating my loneliness and flipping through the channels, when ESPN happens to be covering the historic win of a South Carolina exy team, and they flash a picture of two kids that look like exactly like my father, and are about my height, and have the same last name as a girl I dated for a month 25 years ago. And all of the pieces were too convenient not to fit. And the only thought running thought my head is 'wow. I could have a family again'. And for 24 incredibly naive hours, I was convinced that I could just show up, and you and your brother would accept me into your lives with open arms. I then spent the entire flight over realizing gradually that you'd probably want nothing to do with me. By the time I landed, I was ready to get right back on the flight home."

"But you didn't."

"No, I didn't." McPherson agrees. "I know that you probably want nothing to do with me, Andrew. I'm not asking you to give me a place in your family. But I want you to know that every moment I spend with you and your brother, and even Nicky, the prouder I am of you. You've gotten into an excellent school, with a full scholarship, you've built yourself a family of your own, you're even seeing someone! Someone who tore me to shreds back in the restaurant, but seeing as it was in defense of you, I can hardly hold that against him." That sounds about right. "Look. I have no right to my pride, Andrew. I haven't earned it, but I'd like to try to."

Mcpherson finishes talking and deflates, like he's said everything he needs to. Andrew gestures towards his cigarette "do… you want one?"

"Hmm?" McPherson realizes what Andrew means and shakes his head, smiling. "Oh no, I quit years ago. Thank you though." He doesn't say anything to make Andrew stop though. His voice is free of judgement.

"So. What exactly are you expecting out of this?" 

McPherson frowns. "I'm sorry?"

"Well it's a little too late to do any traditional father-son things. I already know how to drive, and something tells me you're not much of a catch guy."

McPherson is still confused.

"You're going to be our dad, right? So you've got to show up now. I'm thinking holidays, and maybe also summers."

Andrew sees McPherson process the information in real time. A slow smile spreads across his face. "I'd love that."

"You said we look like your dad?" Andrew said. A grandfather. Andrew had never considered the possibility of a grandfather.

"The spitting image."

"I'm not changing my last name again." Andrew warns.

"I wouldn't expect you to." 

Andrew nods at his father. "Alright. Welcome to the family."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter seems rushed, that's because it is, I just couldn't keep staring at the document trying to make the right words come out. Next chapter is the epilogue, thanks for the ride everyone.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave Kudos and Comments, they fuel me, and also, they make me happy!


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